It's been a while, I know. Perhaps, too long. Another week begins. Another year grows old. Time shuffles forward.
But I'm back; if only for a short visit. Back to a place that still feels like home. Back to write for Word of the Week - A dreemie-inspired creative holiday.
I read the deets here and took a moment to allow something to stir. Below is what occurred.
Sky was wrecked. She'd partied hard the night before and now she had to face the tortuous commute to work.
Smelly armpits and being squashed like a sardine were never pleasant when travelling the rush hour but when you'd had a skin full the night before, it was hell.
She only had herself to blame though. It wasn't as if she didn't know she had work. It wasn't as if she didn't know she had an important meeting at 10 a.m. She did.
When her friend, Jackie, had asked her out, her initial response was to say no. And then, with a little nudge from her good friend, she'd said, okay but only for a little bit.
How many times had she done that? Too many.
She knew it. Jackie knew it. And they'd gone out and got smashed. Again.
Eventually, she crawled back to her place just to drift off to sleep and 5 minutes later her alarm went off, or at least, that's what it felt like.
She stood on the platform. Her head banging. She'd taken some tablets but they weren't doing anything. This was going to be a tough day.
The tube pulled in. It was packed. She waited while some commuters got off and then moved with the force of those on the platform into the tiny space, wondering what she was doing.
Why was she so stupid? Why did she always have to be so stupid?
What on earth was the matter with her?
Like a drum beat her thoughts snapped at her, thudding inside her head, adding an intensity to the hangover headache. So stupid. So Stupid. Why am I so stupid?
Pressed close to the other bodies within the tube, she stood. Head down. Eyes shut. Hating life. Hating herself. Head banging. And then, with a jolt, the tube stopped.
Sky felt herself falling. She reached out, trying in vain to stop herself. The bodies around her moved with her. They all jolted together.
A hand grabbed her arm. Held her.
Everyone looked up and for a moment connected. They were all jolted from their inner worlds and suddenly saw each other.
A collective gasp.
A community of commuters so close but so separate suddenly brought together. A tension cord snapped and strangers solidified into real people, all experiencing this moment, all experiencing a new camaraderie of this unexplained circumstance that none of them had expected.
A tableau.
A sky with a jolt of lightning.
Short and sweet? Or short and sour? It's over to you, dear reader, to decide what you might from this little ditty about an everyday event that turns out to be not so every day.
Too many paint the picture of their lives with a dark stroke, creating a nightmare of pain for themselves. But, it only takes a sudden jolt to flash upon a sky to change everything.
Be careful with the thoughts you choose to attach to. They are the very essence of the life you, as a creator, get to manifest. Good or bad. Dark or light.
The patterns weave in and out and create a rich tapestry. Your artistic flair is there to be seen by all.
Cover photo by Leon Contreras on Unsplash
The line dividers were created in Canva, as were The Little Voice & Dreem-WOTW banners.
Dreemport banner asset used with permission from 
